


A Ballad of Guns and Outlaws

by BlackSansaStark



Series: A Ballad of Guns and Outlaws [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arthur Morgan Does Not Get Tuberculosis, Background Relationships, Canon Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Interracial Relationship, Micah Bell Is His Own Warning, Past Relationship(s), Period Typical Attitudes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-02-10 15:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18663526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackSansaStark/pseuds/BlackSansaStark
Summary: Tilly Jackson has been sweet on Arthur Morgan since she was seventeen, and Arthur finds himself sweet on Tilly as the woman she is now. Even with what lies ahead for the gang going east, they can't help but fall in love.





	1. Ice and Hearth

**Author's Note:**

> So I came up with this while writing "If We Look Back We Are Lost", and you don't have to read that to understand this fic (especially since there are now some inconsistencies between the two of the them lol). 
> 
> There are references to sexual abuse in Tilly's past, nothing too explicit, but nonetheless a warning to anyone who is sensitive to these subjects. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy :)

The mountains are cold and full of terrible things, but at least they were safe for now.

Tilly Jackson snuggles closer into Arthur’s burly arms as he snores softly in his slumber. She expected him to snore like a elephant, but thankfully he didn’t.

Arthur Morgan was a man of great complexity. He was hard yet soft where it matters. He was a good man at heart, but was a force of nature. And he was hers to claim.

It was only recently that their relationship had shifted into the odd little thing it was now. Arthur had all of a sudden started to do more than greet her and talk with her at the campfire. He hugged her tighter, he kissed her tenderly on her hands, he lets his hand rest on her back, and lately he’s been sleeping with her at night sometimes. They don’t do anything but cuddle, yet it’s the most intimate she’s been with a man. She lets all of this happen because she’s so deeply in love with him, it hurts sometimes.

When Arthur wraps his arm around her body, she can’t help but feel like one of the girls in Mary Beth’s novels. This was everything she had ever wanted since the moment she first laid eyes on Arthur Morgan at seventeen. Well, it was almost everything. He hasn’t made love to her yet, but she wasn’t ready. Even after all these years, she still wasn’t ready for that yet.

It hurts, because when she’s dreaming about Arthur and what he can do to her if she just allows it, he always transforms into Anthony Foreman’s bastard cousin.

* * *

 

Arthur goes out with Javier to find John, and he returns with wolf marks on his coat. Lately he’s been bringing back a couple of interesting things. First a widow, then some deer, then a O’ Driscoll, and now wolf marks. The longer they stay here in this frozen dump named Colter, he might bring home the ghost of Davey next.

With a sewing needle and thread in hand, Tilly gets to work while scolding him for putting himself in danger like that.

“I don’t know what the problem is, you should see John,” Arthur remarks dryly, but amused at the sight of his girl fretting over his ruined clothes. She doesn’t know how cute she looks when she’s like that. It draws him to her even more.

He didn’t know how he came to have feelings for Tilly all of a sudden. Was it because she was a sweet, yet witty thing? Maybe. She always lent a helpful ear to his grumblings, but often gave him honest, grounded advice that wasn’t sugarcoated. She was also rather playful too, always teasing him if his beard was growing too long, or when they was playing games together. Tilly was also a very pretty girl that dressed very well, either with the clothes she had picked up along the way or the ones she sewed together. And she always had one of them colorful brooches in her hair. He wasn’t one to admit it openly but he had a thing for spirited, pretty women like her who could warm a glacier just with a smile.

“The problem is you putting yourself in danger like that! You could have died!” She barks.

“Well I’m sure John’s grateful to be back. He can go back to arguing with Abigail and being a no good father to Jack,” he responds bitterly, and right on time, he hears loud arguing between the two of them from the other cabin. He rolls his eyes. He hasn’t forgiven John yet for abandoning Abigail and Jack, and he doesn’t think he will for long time. It angers him how John was taking them for granted. He wasn’t realizing how lucky he was to have a woman that loved him and a child that thought the world of him. He could give anything to have a family again. _Anything_ …

He shrugs out of his coat, making her stop.

“What are you doing?” She asks him, confused.

“I’m figurin’ that it’ll be easier for you to work on my coat if I’m not wearing it.”

When he removes his coat and places it on her lap, Tilly’s eyes wander to his chest. He’s wearing a white shirt underneath but it doesn’t hide his muscles. She can’t help but think of what they look like bare, and how her fingers would look running across his chest.

Arthur notices, and for some reason, instinct takes over him.

He takes her into his lap, and Tilly barely has time to process what is happening when his lips is suddenly on hers. Even in the cold, they taste like spring herbs. She doesn’t hesitate to open her mouth to allow him more access, for his tongue to play with hers. It takes her breath away and makes her thoughts disappear. Arthur bites and sucks on her lower lip, rubs her lower back, and it amazes her how one can make love to someone just by kissing them.

It’s only when his hand reaches underneath her skirt, does she stiffen.

Arthur immediately stops, and looks at her in worry. While he was a terrible bastard, he wasn’t going to force a woman to sleep with him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sorry, Arthur, I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” she apologizes.

“Don’t you ever apologize to me, darlin’, not for that,” Arthur asserted.

She wants to cry at his sincerity. No matter what he says, he is a good man. “It’s not that I don’t want you, Arthur. It’s just...they did things to me and I can’t…”

Arthur kisses her on the forehead, and wraps his arm around her frame. Tilly has never felt so warm in her life. “Ya don’t have to tell me. Just know that I’ll treat ya right if you lay with me or not, if there’s nothing else I can I promise ya. You’re my lady,” he proclaims, “We can take small steps, big steps, no steps…”

“You can keep kissing me. I like that.”

“I like that too,”

“I’ve never been kissed between my legs before,” she says, shyly. She’s looking specifically at his lips, which were ripe and vibrantly pink even in the dark cold. She’s looking at his stubble, and the idea of it tickling her skin has crossed her mind more than once. “I don’t want you to go all the way but I want to know what it’s like to be touched down there.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, just silently looking at her, and Tilly feels like a fool. Then she’s suddenly being lifted in his arms as he rises.

“Are you sure?” He whispers in her ear, and the hair on her skin rises.

“Please,” she answers softy.

Arthur carries her to his bed, and lays her gently down. He’s on top of her, and he cups her face. He kisses her forehead again.

“I haven’t been with a woman in a long time, but I do know how to take care of em’, and you’re going to feel good, Miss Tilly,” he boasts with a seductive grin. Their lips meet again as he pushes her skirt up around her waist. Her panties are pulled off next, and his cold fingers trace along her hot skin, causes a jolt in her. He moves downward, and butterflies flutter in her stomach when he kisses her belly button. The anticipation of what was about to happen was driving her up the wall, but Arthur teases her by taking his sweet time.

He parts her legs, and gazes in approval at her bare womanhood. Arthur bends his head down and sniffs her scent. He nips, licks, and sucks at her inner thighs, leaving dark marks. His beard grazes her skin, which tinkles under its touch.

Despite her best efforts to keep her mouth shut, it hangs wide open when Arthur drags his wet tongue up her slit.

“Arthur,” she moans. Her mind is already fading away, and he’s only dragging his tongue up and down her outer folds. But it’s so wet, so _thick_ , and it’s opening her body up to pleasures she didn’t know she could have. He delves his tongue deeper inside her folds, he’s thrusting in and out, and her eyes shut in bliss. Then he’s stops. He takes his tongue out of her, and she’s taken aback by the sudden cold between her thighs and-

_Oh._

Arthur has found her sweet spot, her pearl tongue. He kissing it, then rolling his tongue around it. She’s panting heavily, her vision is blurring with tears welling up in her eyes from how _good_ she’s feeling, and she’s clutching the sheets for life. Now he’s sucking on it, making it pulse, and Tilly’s legs go weak. She throws her head back, while he only goes faster. Her stomach is soaring, while her heart thumps hard in her chest.

Tilly bites her lip hard to keep from shouting when she finally releases. Arthur licks her clean, and he looks up at her with a grin. He crawls up and wraps himself around her.

“You taste good, sweetheart,” he purrs in her ear. If she wasn’t reeling from her climax, she would respond. “I’m going to enjoy doing this every night if you let me.”

She nods numbly, and he chuckles before kissing her again.

* * *

 

He could get used to this.

Tilly is gone before the sun rises, but the knowledge that she’s his now keeps a smile on his face. In a way, he still feels like a boy with the way he’s acting giddy over having a woman in his arms again. Something about Tilly is special however, she was similar to yet different from all of the other women he has been with. He may have not been inside of her last night, but he has tasted her, made her moan his name, made her feel delightful, and nothing was sweeter in his opinion than the look on a woman's face when you made her happy.

What he’s starting to not get used to anymore is having to pack up and move constantly because of a boat or train job gone bad.

First they had to leave Blackwater, and now Colter because once gain Dutch had a brilliant idea that was ruined with a poor plan and even poorer execution. He wasn’t about to lose faith with the man who raised him since he was 14, but where was it going to end? The past twenty years have been nothing but them fighting and then running. They were moving farther away from the west, farther than the “freedom” Dutch wanted. The further they moved east, the more closer they were to the civilization that wanted to wipe them out.

Arthur doesn’t want to worry. He spent almost twenty years following Dutch, and he loved him like a father.

But as he watches Tilly get into a carriage with Mary-Beth and Karen with an unsure look on her face, he starts to wonder if the dream Dutch was fighting for was not meant to be.


	2. Outlaws Build No Ranches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long update, and the really short chapter. This is mostly fluff and to set up the next one, where things actually happen to move the plot forward.

Even in his tent, the rays of the morning sun is felt on his skin. The warm, fresh air of spring is soothing as Arthur starts to awaken. While the birds are chirping, Arthur still isn’t ready to open his eyes. In this moment, he can pretend everything is perfect. That this is  _ home _ . He buries his face in Tilly’s neck, and he inhales her scent. After two weeks, she smells like flowers. Her skin is so soft it feels like another pillow.

When he feels her stirring awake, he finally opens his eyes. Tilly turns to face him, and she smiles brightly before kissing him on their forehead.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

“Good morning to you as well, sweetheart,” he says back.

They get to kissing, and Arthur pulls her on top of him. This morning is already off to a great start.

“Arthur! Wakeup! I need you to chop these logs! Miss Jackson, get your useless ass up and get to washing these damn clothes already!” Miss Grimshaw’s booms, and Arthur wishes he haven’t thought too soon.

* * *

“So now that you’re Arthur’s mistress, you’re gonna be like Molly and just sit pretty all day?” Karen asks in a teasing tone while folding clothes.

Tilly is awake physically, but not mentally, and right now Karen has the most annoying voice in the world.

“Obviously not if she’s here,” Mary-Beth answers for her, knitting a shawl. She was the closest to Mary-Beth out of any woman in the camp. They were around the same age, orphaned at early ages, and made their lives pickpocketing and uses their looks to deceive men before Dutch took them in. Some of the novels she read were too silly for her taste, but Tilly reads them after her anyway. They were a good sense of entertainment at the very least. “And she’s not Arthur’s mistress, he actually treats her better than that.  _ Molly  _ is just Dutch’s mistress.”

Tilly could only nod groggily as she’s washing the dishes. She didn’t mind doing work to earn her keep in the camp, but damn it if Susan Grimshaw wasn’t the most unpleasant bitch about it. There were some days where she was close to telling her off, that is if Karen didn’t cut her throat first.

“The way that man be knocking her walls out at night, I’m surprised she can wake up. We can  _ all  _ hear it,” Karen continues, and Tilly contemplates throwing a rag at her face.

“Shut up Karen,” she sharply replies. She liked Karen enough, but when she’s drunk or teasing her like this, she would rather not be bothered with her.

“Oh lighten up Tilly, it’s all in good fun! I wish I get me a strapping man like Arthur to lay with,” Karen sighs dreamily.

“You mean like Sean?” Mary-Beth replies, smirking. The other woman growled at the comment, but everyone knows how much she liked the man. And he liked her despite flirting with any woman he could find.

Arthur strolls by them, carrying a bale of hay.

“Ladies,” he greets Karen and Mary-Beth. He walks over to Tilly, grabs her hand and kisses it tenderly, “Darling.” He winks at her before walking away. The other girls are oohing and ahhing.

“Shut up,” Tilly barks again, but her skin is hot.

“Don’t be like that girl,” Karen said, giggling, “While we’re here, tell us about him. Is the grand ol’ Arthur Morgan a  _ beast  _ in bed,” she whispers in Tilly’s ear.

“Not that it’s any of y’all business but I wouldn’t know.”

The other two women shared looks of confusion.

“You and Arthur haven’t had sex yet?” Mary-Beth asks.

Tilly looks down to the ground. A part of her feels deeply ashamed even though Arthur reassured her multiple times that he didn’t mind.

“I’m not ready for that yet but we do other things,” she explained.

“Like what?”   
  
She shouldn’t run her mouth about this. But since there were no other things they were all going to do today…

She beckons her fingers for the girls to lean in, and they do eagerly.

“He does this thing with his tongue…”

* * *

She’s waiting for him in his tent later that day, and when Tilly sees his filthy, mud-stained clothes, she frowns.

“Arthur, what the hell happened?” Tilly asks as she stands up. 

“Oh just a little bar fight earlier that Bill caused,” Arthur replies nonchalantly, but inside he’s screaming at how much trouble they caused within two weeks of moving to a new camp.

“A little? You look like a complete mess!” She scolds him, and for a woman who claims to hate Susan so much , she sure is sounding like her a little right now. “You have been getting into nothing but trouble lately.”

He stiffens, knowing that she’s talking about the night he and Lenny went out drinking in the town. Arthur doesn’t remember much of the specifics, but he does remember waking up in a jail cell the next morning with the worst hangover he ever had.

“You’re going to nag me to death, woman?” He questions tiredly, and Tilly  _ definitely  _ looks like Susan’s, though he wouldn’t dare to say that now. He feels like a little boy that is about to get slapped.

Tilly steps closer to him and reaches for his face, and Arthur braces himself for the oncoming slap, but she only runs her fingers over his bruised face.

“You’re a fool, Arthur Morgan,” she tells him, but not with malice. He chuckles deeply.

“I’m your fool though,” he replies and he pulls her into his arms.

“Trelawney has a lead on Sean. I have to go soon,” he says, “He’s being held by some bounty hunters in Blackwater.”

Tilly breaks away from him. “Blackwater? But that’s too dangerous, Arthur!”

“I know, I know, but Dutch wants us to at least try to save him. Personally I say let the bounty hunters be. Maybe with Sean gone, we’ll get some much needed quiet time in the camp,” he commented wryly.

“You don’t believe that,” his girl replies, “You care for Sean and you know it.”

He sighs. “Unfortunately I do.” That annoying little fucker was like a little brother to him, along with John and Lenny, if he had a little brother that couldn’t shut the fuck up for two minutes.

Arthur kisses her on the forehead, then her nose, and then finally her lips. “We shouldn’t be gone for long, sweetheart.”

She pouts playfully, then kisses him on the cheek. “You better make it up to me, Arthur Morgan.”

“Believe me, I will,” he assures, “Or we can start now.” 

“How long do we have?” Tilly asks, eyes glowing with mischief. 

“Until later tonight,” Arthur replies before kisses his girl deeply, and she grips his waist so she can pull him in close. 

He lays her down on his bed, and while he trails his finger up her thighs, he allows himself to forget for a moment about the  _ other  _ member he will have to bail out of a jail. The one member of this gang that if some tragedy befell them, he wouldn’t shed a single tear.

* * *

 

Tilly laughs as Arthur dramatically twirls her around while they dance underneath the stars. It is a day later, and Sean is back, and Dutch decides now is a good time for a party. It’s been awhile since things were so light-hearted around camp. She is reminded of how they are her family from Dutch to Jack, even Pearson. Now Sadie is a member of their family, even if she’s mostly crying and isolating herself from everyone else during the day.

Arthur dips her body down before lifting her up and spinning her in the air. He is perhaps a little too tipsy. He brings her back down before she gets dizzy, and when he bows to her, she curtsies with a giggle. Arthur playfully tips his hat at her before stumbling off to find another bottle of whiskey. Tilly shakes her head. He has clearly not learned from his little  _ trip  _ with Lenny, or hell any other time before that. 

But her Arthur wasn’t the only one drunk off his ass and doing stupid things because of it.

Swanson, Pearson, and Uncle are singing several bawdy songs while Javier plays music. Arthur soon join in, and his singing voice is one of the few things she doesn’t like about Arthur. 

Dutch has stopped dancing with Molly in favor of dancing with Hosea instead. Something about their friendship was different than the normal camaraderie between men. Tilly paid no real mind to it. Whatever it was didn’t change the love she had for the men who took in a sad seventeen year old girl and gave her  the family she didn’t know she needed.

Tilly sees Karen lead Sean into John’s tent, and the resulting sounds from the tent are uncomfortably loud. John himself was vomiting Pearson’s dinner behind a tree. Bill was passed out on top of his horse. She sees Mary-Beth bring a bottle of beer to Kieran’s lips as if he was still tied to a tree, and wonders if her best friend realized what a dangerous game she was playing. Ever since Arthur found that O’Driscoll, Mary-Beth has a taken an odd liking to him. She brought him food and drink, sewed him new clothes, and read her stories to him. When she wasn’t with the girls or doing chores, she was attached to Kieran.

She has no room to judge as her relationship with Arthur was not accepted anywhere outside the gang, but she couldn’t help but feel that Mary-Beth was 

setting herself up for trouble. It wasn’t her business but that will not stop her from worrying.

A hour or two later, several members of the gang are still partying, but Arthur was passed out on his cot.

Tilly throws his blanket, made from the pelt of the bear he and Hosea had hunted, on top of him and kisses him on his forehead before heading off to the tent the girls were sleeping in

A smile grows on Arthur’s face in his sleep.

  
  
  



	3. A Wolf Among Sheep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You see that “Micah Bell is his own warning” tag? Yeah he’s going to be a problem.

_ There are some moments where Arthur does regret beating or killing someone when he didn’t need to. Sometimes the fact that blood runs through his fingers often than water keeps him up at night. Some of those poor bastards he murdered or beaten were no less worse than him. His quick temper was a problem that he was strongly aware of. _

_ But he would never apologize for killing or brutalizing those who threatened his family or anyone else he was fond of. However for the sake of Dutch, he tries to reign in his penchant for violence first. _

_ Which is why when he sees a black man harassing and backing Tilly up to a wall, it takes all that’s good in him to not put a bullet in the man’s head immediately. “Get your hands off her, friend,” he warns.  _

_ “Who are you?” The man barks in return. _

_ “A friend of mine,” Tilly answers with a tremble which makes his bloodlust rise. She is clearly scared, and this man is hovering over her with a certain possessiveness a random man wouldn’t have. _

_ “Get off her,” Arthur warns again. _

_ “Or what exactly?” The bastard challenges. _

_ “You wanna find out?” This is the last warning. Fuck the consequences. _

_ The man wisely backs off and leaves, but not before giving Tilly some parting words that makes Arthur bristle. _

_ “He’s one of them, isn’t he?” He asks, a sinking feeling in his heart. _

_ “That’s Anthony,” Tilly answers, frowning, “He leads the gang. He wants to take me back,” she adds nervously. “He think he owns me.” Her eyes are still wide from the encounter and she’s starting to shake in fear. _

_ Arthur pulls her into his embrace. _

_ “I would never let that happen.” And he wouldn’t, because if the man dared to try he would gladly kill him. _

* * *

While doing chores, Tilly thinks back to that day and how it was still haunted her. Anthony had attempted to take her away in broad daylight, and if Arthur wasn’t there, he might have succeeded. 

Was he looking to kill her for Mark? Or to take her so she can resume her “duties” for the Foreman brothers? The thought sent a chill down her spine. She did not ever want to go back to that. She  _ won’t  _ go back to that. She would rather die. 

“Sweetheart,” a voice calls out to her, and she turns around and frowns when she sees who it is. Micah Bell, possibly the worst man she has ever had the displeasure of knowing behind Anthony and Mark Foreman. He’s only been back for two days, but Tilly already wishes that Dutch had let him hang in Strawberry.

“You’re awfully pretty for a darkie,” Micah leers as he looms over her while she washes utensils. 

The comment makes her skin crawl. “Please leave me be, Micah.”

Instead of doing that, he presses on. “I’ve heard from my daddy that you black bitches will do anything no matter how depraved it is. Maybe I’ll ask Dutch for a night with you when Morgan’s done,” he says in her ear and with that, he walks away.

Tilly bites her tongue to keep from lashing out, and a part of her wants to cry. How dare he. How  _ dare  _ he speak to her like that. All Micah did in camp was give degrading remarks to anyone in camp who wasn’t Dutch. It aggravated her how Dutch knew this and didn’t do anything about it. What could he do on missions that her Arthur couldn’t do? Or John? Or Lenny? 

“Pay no mind to him,” Mary-Beth comments, walking over to her, “He’s a creep and he talks to all of us like that.” She sits down next to her and wraps her arm around, and that’s when Tilly realizes that she’s shaking.

“But yet he’s still here,” Tilly spat, “He can say whatever he wants to say and Dutch doesn’t do a thing about it.” It infuriated her how whenever Arthur isn’t around, he gets  _ bold _ . And unfortunately Arthur wasn’t around, as soon as Miss Grimshaw handed him a letter from a certain someone, he rode off. That infuriated her even more because she knew who that certain someone was.

Mary-Beth rubs her lower back soothingly. “Maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll die in the next train robbery,” she muses darkly.

Tilly knows it’s not right, but the idea is something she’ll start praying for.

* * *

 

Arthur knows something is off when he rides back to camp that night and Tilly is not there to greet him immediately.

She’s sitting by the cliff, staring numbly into the night.

“Sweetheart,” he greeted cheerfully.

She didn’t answer. He frowns.

“My  _ lady,”  _ he greets again, shuffling awkwardly.

“How did meeting with Mary Linton go?” She asks without looking at him.

_ ‘Shit, I must be trouble,’  _ he thinks to himself. All this time together and they actually never talked about Mary. “She just wanted me to talk to her brother.” ‘ _ Who I had to talk out of staying with some crazy turtle-worshipping cult.’ _

Tilly rose slowly and the tension in her form made him nervous.

“Her brother? It’s interesting how this woman left you for another man, and she still has you wrapped around her finger to do whatever she pleases!” She shouts angrily, and it attracts several people to them.

“Can you lower your voice? Everyone doesn’t need to hear this!” He hisses.

“Do you still love her?” Tilly questions, stepping closer to him. “Do you?”

“No!” He answers quickly.

“Then why did you help her, Arthur? Why? She doesn’t deserve a thing from you! You have me!” Tilly pleads, and he puts his hands on her shoulders.

“Sweetheart, you have to worry about her no more. This was a one time thing, and it was because I liked Jaime,” he explained. And he truly did have a soft spot for Mary’s little brother. He was the only one out of her family that didn’t turn his nose up at him. And as for Mary…

She made it clear that she thought he would never change. And despite the hurt he felt at that sentiment, he knows she’s right. It’s a wonder that Tilly saw any good in him.

“Mary was the first woman I loved, and I still care for her but that’s all there is to it. She moved on and I’ve moved on. You won’t have to worry about me seeing her again. There’s only you,” he assures, then he kisses her on her forehead. He notices how still she remains. “This isn’t like you, what’s wrong?”

Tilly glances around the camp nervously. “Micah. He told me how pretty I was for a darkie today, and that he’ll ask Dutch for a night with me when you’re done.”

Arthur sees red.

“What?” He growled. 

“He flirts with Mary-Beth, Karen, and Abigail all the time but this is the first time he had done to it me. Arthur, I don’t like it.  _ Why  _ does Dutch keep him around,” Tilly asks.

“I don’t know but what I do know that his time is limited. You tell me the next time he does it, okay?” He requests. He tries to remain calm so as to not scare her. But his blood is boiling.

“He scares me, Arthur. Something’s not right with him.”

“I know, sweetheart, but you know Dutch wants to keep him around.”

“Even at the expense of his ‘family’?” She asks and her brown eyes are piercing into him.

He doesn’t know how to answer that one.

* * *

 

The next morning, Arthur is hungry for blood as he hunts for Micah.

The rat bastard is cleaning a gun outside Dutch’s tent. When he sees him, he gives a disgusting smirk. “Morning, Cowpoke.”

Arthur wastes no time grabbing the man by his collar, and bringing his ratty face up to his.

“I’ve heard some unfortunate news from Tilly. She told me how you made a pass at her yesterday. Know anything about that?” He growls, but Micah keeps that smug grin on his face.

“Oh I was just playing with her. I have no interest in fucking a darkie anyways,” he answers, making Arthur snap.

“Now you listen-”

“Gentlemen, what is the problem?” Dutch bellows as he walks up to them. Molly is trailing behind him, pouting for some reason. “This is how we behave as a gang?”

“Ask Cowpoke,” Micah sneers.

Arthur glares at Dutch. “Tell your friend here to stay away from Tilly before I put a bullet in his head.”

“You’re  _ not  _ going to be doing anything I don’t tell you to do, and that includes harming another member of the gang. Do you hear me?” Dutch commands harshly.

Arthur releases Micah, seething. He then storms off to where his White Arabian, Winter, was hitched to. He’ll have to clear his mind for awhile, and riding around was the only nonviolent option at the moment.

But Micah was in danger from him, that he was certain. If he wasn’t being a creepy bastard to the girls, he was making bigoted remarks to Charles, Lenny, and Javier. And now, he had the audacity to come at Tilly.

He had  _ no  _ problem spilling the blood of anyone that harmed Tilly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the White Arabian. The horse I may never have.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried really hard to find an official source but since Rockstar has not confirmed Tilly's age (nor a lot of other members of the gang for that matter), she's twenty-one going on twenty-two.


End file.
